


The One in the Kitchen

by taetaetiger (sexyvanillatiger)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Anal Fingering, Fluff and Smut, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Married Sex, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 20:02:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4679549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sexyvanillatiger/pseuds/taetaetiger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Junmyeon can't sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One in the Kitchen

Junmyeon turns over as delicately as he can, lifting the covers so that he doesn't disturb them too much. He ends up on his back this time, taking a deep breath and staring bleakly up at the ceiling. It feels like he went to bed centuries ago, and he's been rolling around wide awake ever since. On top of everything else, his stomach growls loudly. He turns his head to look at Yifan, tracing the broad line of his shoulders downwards towards his waist. His breath moves at a shallow, steady rhythm, and Junmyeon feels hot curls of envy in his chest. He could cry, he's so frustrated.

He sits up, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He's never going to get to sleep. Not at this rate. Junmyeon knows he's going to regret it in the morning, but if he spends one more minute in this bed just staring into the darkness, he thinks he'll lose his mind. His stomach gurgles again, and he decides that's what he'll do. He'll find something small to snack on, pull out the latest report from work, and read until he finally feels tired.

Junmyeon is in the middle of swinging his legs over the side of the mattress when he hears Yifan stirring on the other side. He glances back over his shoulder, guilt pulling at him when Yifan rolls over and squints up at him. "Joon?" he mumbles sleepily.

"Sorry," he whispers, leaning over to press a brief kiss to Yifan's lips. "Did I wake you up?"

"Mm, no," Yifan moans, pulling his body in a stretch and sitting up. "What're you doing?"

Junmyeon sighs. "I couldn't sleep. I was going to go get something from the kitchen."

Yifan scoots forward, wrapping an arm around Junmyeon's waist. "Oh, good. I was having this weird dream about our wedding cake."

Junmyeon has a feeling that he already knows where this is going, but he quirks his lips in an innocent smile and asks, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, I really want cake now. And we're going to the kitchen. So I figured we'd get up and go make cake."

Junmyeon muffles his laugh by biting down on his lips, not wanting to wake the kids. He raises his eyebrows at Yifan, silently asking him, _really?_. He glances at the clock on Yifan's bedside table and realizes that it's two in the morning. Two in the morning, and Yifan wants to bake a cake.

"Are you sure? I was just going to get some eggs or something."

Yifan shakes his head, pulling Junmyeon closer to him. "No, no eggs. I'm sure about the cake."

"Do we even have cake mix?"

"We should. We bought two mixes for Zitao's birthday."

Junmyeon hums thoughtfully, remembering that they had given Zitao the choice of flavor and had ended up making the chocolate cake. Which means they have a box of strawberry cake mix sitting in the pantry, probably towards the back since it's been over a month since Zitao's birthday. "It's two in the morning," he says, his tone indicating that he's not trying to dissuade Yifan, he just wants him to know what they're getting into.

"That's okay. We should be back in bed before four, I'd say."

Junmyeon smiles and shakes himself from Yifan's grip. He stands up, turning to offer Yifan help in untangling from the blankets. As soon as he's free, Junmyeon bends down to look for his sleep pants, but Yifan just pulls him towards the hall door. "It's okay, everyone's in bed. Nobody will see you." Yifan punctuates this with a kiss, thumbing the waistband of Junmyeon's briefs. Yifan, himself, is only wearing his boxers, so Junmyeon figures that if they're caught, it would be a moot point anyways.

They make their way downstairs completely in the dark. Junmyeon's eyes are adjusted by now, since he's been up for hours, but Yifan grabs onto his shoulder to keep from bumping into things and making a racket that would wake the children. They only turn on one light in the kitchen: the yellow lamp above the stove. Junmyeon blinks, blinded by it, but Yifan exclaims happily now that he can see again. While Junmyeon readjusts, Yifan begins to gather up their ingredients as softly as he can.

Yifan busies himself in the cupboards, pulling out measuring cups and a cake pan, while Junmyeon goes into the pantry to find the cake mix. He has trouble at first, eyes narrowed as he scans the shelves; Yifan steps up behind him, a warm presence at his back, and one long arm reaches past Junmyeon, behind a box of oyster crackers to where the cake mix is hiding. Junmyeon glances back at Yifan and smiles in thanks, earning another kiss. He holds onto this one a bit longer, and Yifan laughs against his lips.

"It feels like we're sneaking around," he admits to Junmyeon, who raises his eyebrows.

"That's because we are." He takes the cake mix and starts reading the back for instructions. After a moment and a glance at the clock, he thinks aloud, "We might need to find someone to watch the kids tomorrow just so we can nap."

Yifan's deep, rumbling laugh rolls through the silent kitchen. Junmyeon preheats the oven, and Yifan takes up the duty of measuring out ingredients and handing them over. Junmyeon retrieves a whisk from one of the kitchen drawers, afraid that an electric mixer will be too loud. He's halfway through mixing when his arm tires, and wordlessly, he passes the job off onto Yifan. Instead, he takes over greasing and flouring the pan. Together, they're ready to put the cake in as soon as the oven reaches three hundred and fifty degrees.

They set the timer for twenty-five minutes and back away from the oven. Simultaneously, they glance at the small mountain of dishes soaking in the sink, then at each other, and smile weakly. "Tomorrow?" Yifan offers, and Junmyeon sags with relief.

"Yes," he sighs, reaching out for Yifan's hand. Instead of giving it to him, Yifan takes him around the hips and hefts him up onto the counter. Junmyeon gasps, arching up away from the cold surface, but Yifan cages him there by stepping in between his legs.

"We have almost a half an hour to spend before we can even take it out of the oven," Yifan says contemplatively, like they both don't know what he's thinking. Junmyeon settles down and lets him step in closer, bracketing his arms on either side of Junmyeon's hips.

Junmyeon covers Yifan's hands with his own and smiles, leaning forward a little. "Yeah? Did you have something in mind?"

He hardly gets the words out before Yifan embraces him, his lips warm and his kiss toothy. Junmyeon moans, closing his eyes and pushing forward into it. He pulls his hands away from Yifan's, pushing his fingers through Yifan's hair instead, and their teeth click when he bites back. Yifan's hands begin to wander over Junmyeon's sides, his palms cool from the countertop. Junmyeon gasps at the sensation, and Yifan takes the opportunity to lick into him.

Yifan tries to get his hands under Junmyeon's briefs, fingers creeping along the hem of one leg, but Junmyeon grunts and lurches away from his prying touch. He pulls his leg up to kick Yifan's arm away, but instead of succeeding, Yifan catches him by the ankle and leans him back. The counter is still cold, but this new angle has Yifan leaning over him, dominating and solid. Junmyeon submits to his kisses, then, running his hand down Yifan's back to ensure that they are as close together as they can get.

Junmyeon nearly whimpers when Yifan pulls his briefs down, all the way off his legs. The bite of the frigid counter fades into an uncomfortable chill, soothed only by Yifan's mouth on his hip, sucking dark bruises into his skin. He moans, curling his hand into Yifan's hair to encourage him. "Please," he groans, pushing his hips up, "Yifan."

With a final scrape of his teeth, Yifan shifts to acknowledge him. He pulls Junmyeon's hips down, pushing his legs open, and as Yifan wraps his lips around the head of Junmyeon's cock, Junmyeon realizes that he has no leverage to move. He tries, taking a firm hold of Yifan's shoulders, but Yifan holds him down, at his mercy. Junmyeon bites his lip, tears already pricking at the corners of his eyes. He contracts his throat around the noises that he can't help but make, and he tries to whisper when he says, "Yifan, don't _tease_."

Yifan laughs with his mouth full so that Junmyeon feels it all the way down to his toes. He arches, gasping, trying not to knock the paper towel holder to the floor as he squirms. The thought of breaking something sobers him and he pushes Yifan away now, muttering, "The floor, Yifan, put me on the floor."

Yifan does as he's told, pulling Junmyeon off and bringing him down onto his back. The linoleum isn't any warmer than the counter, but here, Junmyeon can spread out, limbs stretching while he beckons his husband closer. Yifan could take advantage of the space to find a place for his own long limbs, but instead, he tangles himself with Junmyeon. He kisses him, trying to rut against him, but with their height difference, the best he can get is the top of Junmyeon's thigh. It's nice, Junmyeon satisfied by thrusting up against the hard plane of his stomach, but it's not what they want, so when Junmyeon pushes at his chest, he lets go of their kiss and lines their hips up.

"Yi _fan_ ," Junmyeon gasps when their cocks brush, coherency leaving him completely when Yifan rolls his hips down. The friction is maddening, Junmyeon lifting his head to bite at Yifan's neck just to distract himself from the looming threat of prematurely finishing right there on the kitchen floor. "How much time?" he asks in one quick breath.

Yifan pulls away minutely to look at the oven timer, leaning back in almost before Junmyeon can miss his presence. "Ten minutes," he says, which probably means twelve or thirteen because Yifan always rounds down. Junmyeon sucks in a slow breath through his nose and tries to calm himself, wanting to last those ten or thirteen minutes, knowing that he won't.

Especially not when Yifan begins trailing kisses down his body again, pushing his thighs up and open so he can lean down between them. His breath tickles against Junmyeon's entrance, and he has to close his throat around a keening moan that works its way up from his core. Yifan laughs, and Junmyeon can feel it in his skin even before Yifan has his lips on him. Junmyeon gasps and lurches, his odds and angles sore against the hard linoleum floor, but _god_ , he wouldn't move if the house started falling down around them.

Yifan starts slowly, flicking his tongue out, catching on the rim just enough to tease. Junmyeon squirms but doesn't scold, too busy lamenting that there are no sheets on the floor for him to grab onto, no blankets, nothing to anchor himself on except for his husband, who pushes his hands away every time he reaches down. He ends up curling his hands into fists, spreading them up above his head while Yifan drags his tongue fully against him. Moaning and twisting, he bucks his hips towards Yifan's face. Yifan just wraps his arms around his thighs to grab his hips and hold him still.

"Please," Junmyeon hisses into the quiet kitchen. "Yifan," he starts, ready to beg as much as he needs to, but Yifan doesn't give him the chance. He points his tongue and dips in, the pleasure shocking in a way that has Junmyeon clenching down around the intrusion. Tighter, like this, he can feel it better, how Yifan tongues at him insistently, pulling out and thrusting back in before licking deep inside of him.

Junmyeon trembles, his throat tight, every muscle in his core tense, fingers clenched in his own hair as he fights to stave off his orgasm. He's so close, just from watching Yifan go down on him, he thinks he could come untouched if his husband asked him to. Yifan sucks against his rim, pulling back just so that he can push one finger in, and Junmyeon loses the fight to stay quiet. He belts out a short cry, reaching down and clamping a hand around his thigh before thinking better of it and pulling it up, opening himself to give Yifan a better view. Yifan rises up onto his knees, biting his lip and staring feverishly at where his finger disappears into Junmyeon's body.

"How close are you?" he asks, tearing his eyes away to look at Junmyeon.

Junmyeon's face is pinched, teeth worrying at his lip, and it's hard to breathe when he says, "Close, so close."

Yifan croons, pushing another finger into Junmyeon, and when he says, "Touch yourself," Junmyeon scrambles to obey. He's so close, his body curling up towards Yifan, and he wants to beg for a kiss but he's so close to coming that he can't even bear to stop. When it comes, it hits him harder than it has in years, a cascade of moans tearing their way out of his throat. Yifan surges forward, kissing him to swallow the cries before he can wake up the kids. His mouth and chin are wet, and it's filthy and hot; Junmyeon lets his tongue in but focuses more on stroking himself through to the end, his body relaxing sorely, protesting the strain of fucking on the kitchen floor now that it's over.

Yifan pulls his fingers free and lowers Junmyeon back to the ground. He pushes his boxers out of the way, moving to sit in Junmyeon's lap and jerking himself above Junmyeon's stomach. He bites his lip and stares down into his husband's face, gaze occasionally darting around the mess he's already left on his torso, and that seems to do it. Yifan comes not too long after, searing hot against his skin. Junmyeon moans softly at the feeling, and it carries Yifan through for another few seconds before he's finished. He lets go of himself, not yet recovered enough to tuck back into his boxers, and he settles his weight back down into Junmyeon's lap.

"We haven't done anything like this since…college," he says after a moment. Junmyeon smiles.

"Fountain of youth," he croaks, indicating lazily to the mess of their come across his skin. Yifan grunts out a soft noise of surprise, like he's just remembered something, and he rises, pulling some paper towels from the holder to clean Junmyeon. Junmyeon reclines, giving him space to do so. "How much time is left?" he asks.

Yifan glances up. He smiles. "Less than a minute."

"Good timing. Turn it off before the alarm goes off," Junmyeon says, taking the paper towels to finish cleaning up. Yifan stands, striding over to the oven in time to keep the timer from blaring out. He fishes through a drawer for an oven mitt while Junmyeon works on standing up. He can still feel the stretch of Yifan's fingers inside him, and it's making his legs weak. He wonders if maybe they could have a date night soon, just so that they can spend a romantic night together again; he's missed feeling like this.

By the time he's discarded the paper towels, Yifan has already pulled the cake from the oven and set it on a potholder to cool. Junmyeon scoops up his briefs and puts them back on, leaning against the counter because he's still a little unsteady on his legs. Yifan reaches out a hand to steady him, his warm palm resting against Junmyeon's side. Junmyeon leans into the touch when he's redressed, smiling up at Yifan.

"Are you excited that your cake is almost ready?"

"Mmm, I don't know if I need cake now that I've eaten you."

Junmyeon blinks, then frowns. "Wu Yifan, I am awake at three o'clock in the morning because you wanted to bake a cake. You _will not_ be going to bed until you eat some of it."

Yifan looks struck for a moment, eyes and mouth round in surprise, and Junmyeon feels his resolve crumbling. But damn it, he's already pulled Yifan's full name on him, he's not going to back down now. It only lasts a moment longer, anyways. Yifan's startled expression breaks into a grin, rowdy and charming as he was the day Junmyeon met him. "Alright, _mom_ ," he teases, pushing his face into Junmyeon's neck. His arm slides the rest of the way around Junmyeon's waist, hugging him sweetly.

They spend the ten or so minutes it takes the cake to cool like that, huddled together against the counter, and after enough time has passed, Junmyeon cuts them each a piece. They're small pieces, their hungers both having long since passed, and they finish quickly, storing the cake and creeping up the stairs back to their bedroom. Junmyeon lets Yifan get in first, following him and settling down against his chest. Yifan slings an arm around him, breathing deeply, and Junmyeon worries for a very brief moment that he will once again find trouble falling asleep. It's the last thing he thinks as consciousness leaves him.

In the morning, Junmyeon barely wakes up enough to call Minseok's parents and ask if their son is available to babysit today. Minseok is over less than half an hour later, and Junmyeon sends Yifan down to greet him, start breakfast, and give him money for lunch. Yifan makes it back into bed, but barely, sort of crawling the last few steps. Junmyeon hoists him up onto the mattress, and Yifan settles down right on top of him. Junmyeon doesn't bother moving him, just wraps his arms around his husband and nuzzles into his chest.

"Was it worth it? Last night?" he asks, his mind buzzing with sleep. Silence passes between them, and Junmyeon thinks that Yifan has already succumbed, but a moment later, Yifan is shifting, rolling to the side and collecting Junmyeon in a lazy embrace.

"Yes," he says, his voice deeper this close to slumber. "For a few hours, I felt twenty again."

Junmyeon has a few choice bruises from their excursion that make him think he's going to be feeling forty by the time he really wakes up, but he hums in agreement. "Is that what that was about, then?" he asks, and Yifan laughs. Junmyeon feels it roll through his chest.

"No. It was about cake." He presses a kiss to the top of Junmyeon's head. "But thank you for indulging me. On all fronts."

Junmyeon hums his answer, closing his eyes and already drifting back to sleep. He hasn't slept in like this in years, though now that he's thinking about it, the last time he would have slept in this late, he would have still been sharing a bed with Yifan. It brings a smile to his lips, one that he carries into sleep when he finally cows to it once more.


End file.
